On today’s Drabble Wednesday we journey the seas, to remote and strange destinations, to rocky lands that protrude from the ocean. Today we journey to the islands…
Somewhere in the distance, the drums beat…
The sound of the machete breaks the silent air, and the dense jungle falls before the blade. The weary party of travellers trudge forward. Again the swish of the machete, the tramp of footsteps; it is the only sound they have heard in days. No birds, no animals, not even the wind. Only eerie quiet broken by their own actions. It has unnerved them.
Even more unnerving, they do not know where they are going, or why.
Their minds are clouded, but that is to be expected. They are wandering spirits, their discarded bodies rotting in jungle they forever walk.
The Far Island
Come my children, I will tale you a tale.
An ancient story, of an island lost among dreams.
Far across the emerald waters, encircled by the mists of time, Azuroth awaits. A place of unimaginable beauty and serenity, they say it is older than the world, more aged than the stars. That it abides half in and half out of what we call existence, and calls to all creatures with its siren song. Azuroth is the island of eternal bliss.
Still, this peace has its price.
No living soul has seen this paradise.
To reach its shores, you must die.
It juts from the water as a monument, stone and earth that fought its way from the clutches of the sea. It stands alone, surrounded by vast churning ocean, forever at war with the elements. It is a solitary island, a rock on the median of nowhere.
One might assume it is unimportant.
Such assumptions would be wrong.
For within its hollow heart, its blackened core, lies a spawn. A beast conceived of fire and stars, of desolated planets and annihilation. A creature sleeping, growing, waiting for its birth.
Waiting for the day it will fly free unto this world.
© A. F. Stewart 2015 All Rights Reserved